It's been a long time since I posted here! Let's see...I'm not a first-year medical student (still at UC), and enjoying it...mostly. Starting medical school makes everything real. As an undergrad, it's easy to say that I want to be a physician. When you're in medical school, though, that sudden reality slaps you in the face and you realize that, one day soon, you're going to be responsible for the lives of other people.
An early concept that they teach us is the idea of imposter syndrome. Very early on, we are exposed to clinical experiences, mostly with standardized patients. Sometimes, the patients are real. I'm going to a clinic today where I will be interacting with real patients and helping to diagnose them and plan their treatment course. That sounds crazy, right? I haven't even finished my first block of medical school. Obviously, I won't be in there alone; there's always an attending physician and a more senior student.
But am I just pretending to be a doctor? That is the vital part of imposter syndrome. We feel like we're just pretending, like we can't possibly have as much authority as we do. It's scary. Downright terrifying. And it doesn't just come from the clinical situations.
You can see the stress in some of us. The late nights studying take their toll, and every Monday after our weekly exam you can literally some people dragging. If we had an ego before this, it gets pounded viciously every week. And, a short time ago, many of us started saying the same thing: remember guys, we ASKED for this.
Did we really, though?
Here's the thing: we KNEW medical school was going to be hard. And that's not a bad thing. I think most of us agree that we want physicians to have to prove themselves, and that process starts very, very early. Some people get weeded out, and sometimes burnout gets to others. But, did we really ASK to be tested like this?
For me, the answer is no. Having struggled for years with issues of self-image and confidence, having to struggle at all to understand a concept brings with it a wave of depression, anxiety, and doubt. Imagine having that wave hit you at least once a week, for 6 weeks. And then several more weeks for the next block. And again for the next block. And again, and again...see the pattern?
I didn't ask to feel like I'm not able to keep up. I didn't ask to feel like I'm an idiot and won't make a good doctor. I didn't ask to feel like I've been hit by the figurative train. But I do. And I think a lot of students feel the same. And it's hard, because expectations are high. No matter how often we repeat the equation p=MD, secretly we all want to be top of the class. And most of us won't be. Try explaining that to a couple hundred type-A personalities.
And frankly, this part scares me more than the clinical part. You see, I've had clinical experience. I've done internships, and been able to interact with patients. The only difference now is that there's some added structure and more stringent expectations. What scares me is the first two years, the part where I have to break myself down completely to build myself back up. The part that will eventually test my knowledge on almost every part of the human body, how it normally functions, and what can go wrong with it. Can we even BE good physicians if we can't get that part?
I thought about it today. And, I think the answer is yes. We didn't ask for this "forge" that is the first two years of medical school. We didn't ask to be made to feel like we can't possibly succeed. But it happens, and it doesn't mean we won't be good physicians. Because, quite honestly, there are a lot of people who are brilliant scientists and great at what they do, but would make terrible physicians. Being a physician isn't about knowing all of the biochemistry, or even all of the anatomy, or even all of the pharmacology. It's about helping people to heal. And yes, at some point, the basic science knowledge will probably come into play. Not all of it, depending on what specialty we finally choose, but at least some part of it will.
The trick is to remind ourselves that we didn't ask for this roller-coaster ride. We have to do it, but we didn't ask for it. We asked to be able to help people, to be able to make a difference in their lives, and we asked to do that through medical practice. Sometimes, you don't get what you ask for right away. Sometimes, you have to endure hardship to be able to help people on the other side.
And this isn't just about medical school. This is about ANYTHING in life. Everything good in life is worth working hard for, but we don't ask to have to work hard for it. We are usually better for the work, in the end, but we almost never ask for the work. We almost never ask to be torn down, diluted and then concentrated in painful ways.
Did we ask for this? No. Will we do it? Yes. And eventually, whether we pass or fail, we will grow. Make growth the goal, the achievement you seek. Other than that, let the cards fall a little randomly sometimes.
And, above all, take care of yourself.
An early concept that they teach us is the idea of imposter syndrome. Very early on, we are exposed to clinical experiences, mostly with standardized patients. Sometimes, the patients are real. I'm going to a clinic today where I will be interacting with real patients and helping to diagnose them and plan their treatment course. That sounds crazy, right? I haven't even finished my first block of medical school. Obviously, I won't be in there alone; there's always an attending physician and a more senior student.
But am I just pretending to be a doctor? That is the vital part of imposter syndrome. We feel like we're just pretending, like we can't possibly have as much authority as we do. It's scary. Downright terrifying. And it doesn't just come from the clinical situations.
You can see the stress in some of us. The late nights studying take their toll, and every Monday after our weekly exam you can literally some people dragging. If we had an ego before this, it gets pounded viciously every week. And, a short time ago, many of us started saying the same thing: remember guys, we ASKED for this.
Did we really, though?
Here's the thing: we KNEW medical school was going to be hard. And that's not a bad thing. I think most of us agree that we want physicians to have to prove themselves, and that process starts very, very early. Some people get weeded out, and sometimes burnout gets to others. But, did we really ASK to be tested like this?
For me, the answer is no. Having struggled for years with issues of self-image and confidence, having to struggle at all to understand a concept brings with it a wave of depression, anxiety, and doubt. Imagine having that wave hit you at least once a week, for 6 weeks. And then several more weeks for the next block. And again for the next block. And again, and again...see the pattern?
I didn't ask to feel like I'm not able to keep up. I didn't ask to feel like I'm an idiot and won't make a good doctor. I didn't ask to feel like I've been hit by the figurative train. But I do. And I think a lot of students feel the same. And it's hard, because expectations are high. No matter how often we repeat the equation p=MD, secretly we all want to be top of the class. And most of us won't be. Try explaining that to a couple hundred type-A personalities.
And frankly, this part scares me more than the clinical part. You see, I've had clinical experience. I've done internships, and been able to interact with patients. The only difference now is that there's some added structure and more stringent expectations. What scares me is the first two years, the part where I have to break myself down completely to build myself back up. The part that will eventually test my knowledge on almost every part of the human body, how it normally functions, and what can go wrong with it. Can we even BE good physicians if we can't get that part?
I thought about it today. And, I think the answer is yes. We didn't ask for this "forge" that is the first two years of medical school. We didn't ask to be made to feel like we can't possibly succeed. But it happens, and it doesn't mean we won't be good physicians. Because, quite honestly, there are a lot of people who are brilliant scientists and great at what they do, but would make terrible physicians. Being a physician isn't about knowing all of the biochemistry, or even all of the anatomy, or even all of the pharmacology. It's about helping people to heal. And yes, at some point, the basic science knowledge will probably come into play. Not all of it, depending on what specialty we finally choose, but at least some part of it will.
The trick is to remind ourselves that we didn't ask for this roller-coaster ride. We have to do it, but we didn't ask for it. We asked to be able to help people, to be able to make a difference in their lives, and we asked to do that through medical practice. Sometimes, you don't get what you ask for right away. Sometimes, you have to endure hardship to be able to help people on the other side.
And this isn't just about medical school. This is about ANYTHING in life. Everything good in life is worth working hard for, but we don't ask to have to work hard for it. We are usually better for the work, in the end, but we almost never ask for the work. We almost never ask to be torn down, diluted and then concentrated in painful ways.
Did we ask for this? No. Will we do it? Yes. And eventually, whether we pass or fail, we will grow. Make growth the goal, the achievement you seek. Other than that, let the cards fall a little randomly sometimes.
And, above all, take care of yourself.